All Children Should Be Treated The Same
by Rotfang-Conspiracist
Summary: John Hagrid, Rubeus's Father, meets someone to help him in his battle for equality for all children...no matter what size they are.


'Who is that?' asked one of the women.

John slowly turned around, frowning. He was standing next to a long table with a bunch of the mothers from school. The sound of screaming, laughing children was ringing in the air. The mothers were occasionally leaning over to pinch a sausage roll, but mainly they were ignoring their charges and turning to their favourite sport – gossiping.

'I have no idea, but it's unnatural isn't it? It's not normal for a child of his age to be that big?'

The anger, that John had only ever felt on behalf of his son, was rising.

'And who are you to decide what's normal?' He asked in a quiet voice. The mother blushed.

'I'm just saying…'

'Well don't. That's a child you're talking about. A child like any other.' He looked her in the eye until she broke his gaze, turning back to the other mothers. As he moved away a wave of mutters passed through the crowd.

He looked over at his son, already several feet above the other 6-year-olds. But his child-like face was cracked in a grin of delight as he helped himself to food, talking to the boy at the head of the table. But John noticed that none of the other children were talking to Rubeus, in fact some were openly whispering. Just like their mothers.

He felt a hand on his arm.

'Hello. I heard what you said just now. And I wanted to let you know…I agree.' He looked up, confused. It was a plain looking lady, with brown hair tied in bun, though strands of it fell around her heart-shaped face, softening the effect. She wore sensible looking clothes, knee length skirt and white blouse, but a brightly coloured scarf added a flash of warm colour to the look. She looked vaguely familiar.

'Agree with what?' he asked slowly.

'That every child should be treated the same. No matter what they look like. It's what we've been trying to achieve all these years isn't it? All this anti-bullying stuff, but kid's own mothers are teaching them the old prejudices.'

John was stunned. 'Definitely. I mean I…I think the same.'

'I've tried to teach my son, David, about treating everyone equal, not judging on appearances.' She gestured towards the boy whom Rubeus was talking to.

John smiled, recognising the features she shared with her son, warm brown eyes, slightly pointed chin. 'He's been great. It's because of him Rubeus was invited here today,' said John with warmth.

'Oh he likes Rubeus, says he's a great laugh.' They both smiled fondly at their children, who were laughing now at the crisps that Rubeus had crushed in his great palm.

'Thanks' said John abruptly.

'For what.'

'Just for…you know, teaching your son … what you taught him. About the children.'

'My pleasure,' she said, smiling.

'What's your name?' he asked, remembering his manners.

'Grace. And yourself?'

'John. John Hagrid, at your service,' he added with a mock bow.

'So,' she said laughing, 'what do you do, apart from charming young ladies and teaching mothers the true meaning of tolerance?'

John frowned slightly. He thought back to his job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He had been sacked from that one, of course. And now he was sort of between jobs. Freelance helper for magical creatures of any kind. His business had been spreading slowly, since most people preferred to go to the ministry for any sort of real problem, but those who perhaps feared the ministry's generally violent reaction to creatures they did not understand, or those who just didn't like the ministry were learning to call him. But how to translate that into muggle?

'I sort of…work with…animals' he said.

'Ah. But not a vet, I take it?'

'No. Not a vet, more of a…carer.' He wondered what she would think of this, had probably expected a plain straight-forward answer, but she showed no sign of surprise. 'So what do you do?' he asked, for he had no wish to delve further into his own job.

'I'm a primary school teacher,' she said with a smile.

'No wonder you're so good with children then.'

She went slightly pink. 'You _are_ a charmer.'

He laughed at this. 'Believe me, I don't mean to be.' A slight pause followed this, where both of them wondered what to say. 'So where are you from?' supplied John.

'Oh, up north, in the Lake District, originally. Came down here for the jobs.'

'Really! I used to live in the countryside, but down in Cornwall. Some of the best years of my life. Me and…my wife…and then we had Rubeus and…' he trailed off.

'What happened?' she asked, gently.

'She left when he was three,' he said, trying and failing to sound casual.

She didn't know what to say, that was clear, but the pity in her eyes was enough. He felt something touch his hand, and looked down to see it was her own, small and pale. He gave a small smile. With just a little luck, things were going to get better.


End file.
